


Mad Max: Fury Road - Missing Scenes

by koalathebear



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:32:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some missing scenes from the movie ... I have a bad habit of wondering about things that happen offscreen.</p><p>Scenes aren't necessarily linked and I'll have to reorder them as I post because unfortunately I won't be writing them in order.  In fact, so far, i seem to be going backwards!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Traitored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short piece set the night before Furiosa's betrayal of Immortan Joe - a conversation between Furiosa and the Ace.

"Whatcha doin' boss?" the Ace demands curiously as he encounters Furiosa near the Rig the night before they're due to set out for their supply run.

"Just checking out the Rig … making sure it's ready," she tells him as she stands in the shadows, staring into the darkness.

"There's nothing to worry about with this one - just nipping over to Gas Town and Bullet Farm - a piece of piss!" he says cheerfully.

"Absolutely," she agrees.

"I done the walk around myself already, boss," the Ace announces. "Full tank of guzzoline, checked the tyres, checked the oil ... she's sweet."

"I'd expect nothing less," she replies and it's true. The Ace is her most loyal and dedicated lieutenant. Conscientious, fearless and devoted. He's also deadly, killing without hesitation when commanded - and she's commanded him to kill more times than she can recall ...

He keeps the other boys in line and makes sure the Rig runs smoothly – has done for a long time now. Older than the other boys, he looks out for them, ignoring his own night terrors.

"Are the other boys ready?" she asks him and he nods.

"Course they are boss... been ready for days now ..." He looks excited, trusting. As usual, he believes in her implicitly. He's usually good at reading her, anticipating what she's going to do next. Not tonight, though. He's painfully oblivious to her plans.

As she looks at his face, open and trusting, the bile rises in her throat and she swallows hard.

"Good. Now go get some rest - I'll see you in the morning," she orders him curtly. Always the good soldier, obedient and dutiful to a fault, he leaves her alone in the shadows with her thoughts. 

Frowning, she waits for him to leave and continues to stare fixedly at the War Rig that is loaded with fruits, vegetables, water and Mothers' milk. To the side is the spare fuel pod filled with guzzoline that will be hitched to the back of the Rig tomorrow. Her mouth tightens. There's enough food and water for the journey across the Wastelands – if they survive. 

She crawls under the Rig and up through the opening to clamber into the inside the tank, examining the large compartment designed to store food. She moves heavy blankets into the corner, thick heavy fabric that will be used to protect the cargo … or disguise illicit passengers.

If she's discovered it will mean punishment for the wives and certain death for her. Furiosa imagines the look of fury on Immortan Joe's face when he discovers that his beloved breeders are gone. A cold smile curves her ripe mouth. Whatever the price - it's worth it.


	2. The Dag Sees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a post recently all about Max and Furiosa driving (http://koalathebear.livejournal.com/1525750.html) in which I wondered about a bunch of things ...

The Dag studies them narrowly. The Man is in the passenger seat, head lolling from side to side as he sleeps. Like Furiosa, it's a very uneasy and restless sleep clearly punctuated by bad dreams and memories - but it's sleep nonetheless.

She then glances over at Nux who is staring out the window as Capable dozes in his arms as if they have always known one another. He seems bemused – but happy. Cheedo is leaning heavily against the Dag's shoulder, snoring inelegantly while Toast rests against Cheedo, sleeping quietly. In the quietness of the cabin, only Furiosa and the Dag are awake. From time to time, Furiosa glances back at her and the Dag will nod her head in acknowledgment.

When the Man is awakened from his sleep by his nightmares, the Dag listens to their conversation, closing her eyes and pretending to sleep. She listens as Furiosa tells of how she was stolen from the Green Place, the place of her birth. It's a story the Imperator has only ever shared with Angharad and the Dag wonders why she is now choosing to share it with the Man of all people. 

Hearing the catch in her voice, the Dag tries to imagine the small child stolen from her home. It's difficult to think of Furiosa being stolen, of her ever having been a helpless child. Ever since she has known her, Furiosa's name has been spoken with reverence and fear in the Citadel. The War Boys, War Pups and Repair Boys prostrate themselves before the tall, proud Imperator who has led the Armada to victory time and time again, bringing back countless prisoners and treasures for Immortan Joe.

Later, it's the Man's turn to drive so that Furiosa can rest. The Dag is more than a little surprised that the Imperator permits herself to sleep, let down her guard and make herself vulnerable to a man that only a short time ago she was trying to kill. It's already something quite remarkable that the Man is being permitted to drive Furiosa's beloved War Rig. During the escape, driving duties have been shared between Furiosa and the Man. For all of his driving prowess, Nux has not been given the honour. The trust between Furiosa and the Man has not come easily. Both initially had difficulty sleeping while the other was driving, both had cast furtive glances that were suspicious and wary ... But now? The mistrust is long gone.

The Man glances up, staring into the rearview mirror into the Dag's frowning eyes. Anyone else would have asked her about the frown. Instead, he merely meets her gaze momentarily and then returns his attention to the way endless path ahead of them.

She shifts slightly in the seat, smiling as Cheedo drools slightly onto her shoulder. She rests her head against her, her hand gently smoothing Cheedo's dark hair as she contemplates the two people in the front seat. She has seen the glances the two of them exchange, the shared understanding and awareness they both have. 

She had sensed the leap of faith the Imperator had taken when she had trusted the Man to drive during the pursuit in the Canyon. The Dag had watched in fear and awe as the two had worked together to defend the Rig from the Rock Riders and then from Immortan Joe's men. There had been a wordless communication, the Man handing Furiosa's rifle to her, moving simultaneously to duck, swerve, shoot and kill. There had been something almost something graceful and beautiful about the effortlessness of their actions – no confusion, no misunderstandings as the two had worked as one.

The Dag wonders if all warriors are born with this affinity or whether there is a strange, inexplicable rapport between these two wild, lonely people. It has been clear to her that the wary Furiosa had decided the Man could be trusted when she had left cabin to clamber beneath the moving Rig to perform urgent repair-work. The Dag didn't presume to think that she and the others were precious to Furiosa – but she knew that the Rig was valuable and she also knew that Furiosa must have believed that the Man would continue to drive towards the Green Place – and not do anything to fling her beneath its wheels.

She sees the Man glance over at Furiosa's sleeping figure and an unreadable expression crosses his face. It might be worry, it might be pity … At the next stop, she knows what she will see. The rest of them take turns to toilet somewhere private – behind a random shrub or dead tree. Sometimes there's nothing except the Rig itself to provide modesty. As the rest relieve themselves and rest, the Man and Furiosa will cool the engines, perform repairs and do whatever else needs doing – usually without any words being spoken.

More than once, the Dag has stood back and watched as Furiosa works on the engine with the Man standing at her side, handing her the tools she needs before she asks for them – and vice versa. If multiple repairs are needed, the two of them will work side by side industriously, neither getting in the way of the other.

She's seen the Man approach Furiosa and hand her a cup of water and some dried food to eat. She's seen Furiosa do the same for the Man. When it's time to leave again, one will glance at the other and tilt his or her head questioningly. A wordless nod and one of them will vault up into the driver's seat without any discussion or debate. 

At the next break, she gulps down her water thirstily and swallows a few bites of dried apple, still watching the warriors from a distance. Furiosa approaches the Man and reaches down to look at the hand that was injured during the Canyon chase – when Rictus ripped the steering wheel from the Rig with a harpoon. At first the Man grunts wordlessly, trying to pull his hand away but then gives an impatient sigh and allows the tall, grim Imperator to unwrap the bandage and check the wound. He suffers her to clean the wound and rebandage it.

"Let's go," Furiosa orders them and everyone settles back into their seats. The Dag holds Cheedo close, wrapping her arms around the younger girl as she presses a kiss to her temple. "Close your eyes and sleep," she murmurs even as she continues to watch the older couple and their intriguing dynamic trying to analyse it, to understand it.

She thinks about the books she has read about reincarnation and prior lives. Perhaps Furiosa and the Man knew each other from a previous life, reunited once more on this perilous journey away from the Citadel. As she watches the Man and Furiosa exchange another wordless glance as the Rig travels through the endless plain of sand, she wonders if the connection is something more.


	3. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set just after Furiosa finds out that the Green Place is no more... I just felt so bad for her - I wanted _someone_ to comfort her ...

Although he remains in the cabin of the War Rig, Max can hear the voices of the women in the silence of the desert.

"I can't wait for them to see it," Furiosa speaks, her voice laced with uncharacteristic anticipation and excitement. It almost makes him smile.

"See? See what?"

"Home. The Green Place," she replies, looking confused at the question.

"But if you came from the West...you passed it..."

He can feel dread knotting in his stomach as he watches Furiosa's expression change.

"The crows. The creepy place with all the crows," the Dag breathes, the horror on her face mirroring the realisation that is dawning in Furiosa's eyes. Then it becomes a noisy clamour as the voices of the Vuvalini blur to become one voice that crushes Furiosa's hope before his eyes.

_The soil._

_We had to get out._

_We had no water._

_And water was filth._

_It was sour._

_Then the crows came._

_We couldn't grow anything._

The expression on Furiosa's face is heartbreaking as she stares at the members of her clan. The ruthless warrior is suddenly as bewildered as a wide-eyed and stricken child. "Where are the others?" she demands in horror, looking from face to face in search of answers.

"What others?"

"The Many Mothers," she breathes, even though the answer is already very, very clear.

"We're the only ones left..."

He senses rather than sees the reactions of Toast, the Dag, Capable and Cheedo because all Max can see is Furiosa's despair - the look of blind disbelief as she staggers away from the group into the sand.

She stumbles as she walks and it's the first time he's seen her awkward and off-balance. Since he has known her, she has been decisive, elegant and sharp with every action, gesture and glance... Now she's moving slowly like a broken doll. He watches as she fumbles with her prosthesis, staggering slightly before tossing it behind her so that it falls onto the sand.

She takes another unsteady step forward, her left arm hanging limply by her side - useless and still. She looks even more like a broken doll now as she sinks down onto the sand for a long, wordless moment. When she throws her head back and gives a long despairing cry that is as much anger and loss as it is grief, Max's throat tightens.

He can't take his eyes off her. He knows that pain. He can feel it rippling across the heated sand towards him, a feeling that is more familiar to him than his own name. Disillusion, grief, loss, despair are his companions, as constant to him as the nightmares and spectres that haunt his days and nights.

The women gather together, murmuring in low voices amongst themselves, leaving Furiosa to her solitary grief. Eventually Max gets out of the War Rig and stands watching Furiosa who remains alone and motionless in the sand. Time passes and her shoulders slump forward, her whole body projecting sorrow.

Eventually the wind that starts to stir up the sand turns cool and there is a distinct bite to the air. After a moment's hesitation, Max ends his stillness and takes a step forward.

"Don't. She won't like that." The words are clipped and blunt.

He looks up startled. The Dag is standing by his side, white hair pulled back from her odd, eerie pale face like an ethereal creature from another world. She is studying him with her strange, unblinking gaze. He looks at her questioningly.

"She wants to be left alone ... with memories and troubled sadness. Furiosa prefers to be alone."

He returns her gaze for a moment, eyes shuttered and expressionless. Then he glances away. Furiosa is a dark shadow in the sand. Even from this distance, he can see that she is starting to shiver.

"Not her fault," he manages to bite out, even though words still don't come easily to him and certainly not with this strange, young woman.

"We all know that ... ", the Dag tells him gravely. "That's the thing about hope. It's just that. Not reality. But she gave us a chance to get away. All of us." The Dag's hands come to rest on her stomach for a moment, her face distant and contemplative. Her pupils are dilated, making the pale blue of her iris almost disappear as she turns her head to gaze at him piercingly.

He walks over to the group of women who are beginning to settle in for the night, reaching down for a knitted blanket. 

"Don't do it, boy - leave her alone right now," one of the women cautions him, her wizened face cautious but sympathetic. They're acting like the Imperator is an injured dog, liable to lash out and bite anyone who approaches.

He grunts and ignores her, gripping the blanket and walking towards Furiosa's solitary figure. "Go away, Fool," she tells in a low voice him without turning around. He comes to a standstill a short distance from her and she pretends he's not there. Nonetheless, she doesn't push him away when he drapes the blanket around her narrow shoulders gently. Her hands reach up to pull the blanket around herself tightly as she tries to restrain a shiver.

She turns around to pick up her prosthesis, causing the blanket to slip but he's there first, picking it up for her.

"No. Give it to me," she tells him, an edge in her voice but he ignores her and comes to stand beside her, the metal and leather hanging from his hand as he stares down into her face. Anyone else would have been crying, but there are no tear stains on Furiosa's cheeks, just a shadow of bleakness around her eyes. Awkwardly, he wipes the sand from the base of the prosthesis and holds it against the stump of her arm and against her shoulder.

She glares at him wordlessly but raises her right hand to keep it in place. Instead of slinging the straps around herself with her usual easy practiced gesture, she stands motionless and allows him to reach around her, pulling the straps tightly across and around her torso before fastening the buckles. His actions are matter-of-fact, unthreatening and she does not flinch or move even as he leans into her and puts his arms around her.

Once her arm is back in place, he reaches down to pick up the blanket and hand it to her and she pulls it back around herself.

"It's gone. All of it ..." she tells him in a low voice, turning to stare at the sand dunes around them. "My memories betrayed me."

"Or kept you sane," he points out.

"I haven't been that for a very long time," she says and the way she says it, causes an uneasy shiver of sympathy to slide across his skin even though he knows that the proud woman beside him would be horrified at the thought of sympathy.

"Saner than me," he tells her. He grimaces a little as he stretches his leg out. It's a bit stiff and store from standing around. Her eyes flicker down to the brace around his leg and he gives a reply to her unspoken question. "Long story."

In turn, his eyes move to her arm and her voice is curt. "Even longer story," she replies, her eyes flickering with remembered pain.

She puts her shoulders back deliberately, takes a deep breath. "I should go back to the others." There's something forlorn about her dirty face, her cropped hair and quiet dignity.

A different person might have sought to comfort her by pulling her close for a hug or say something comforting. Instead, Max merely nods and watches her leave, an unreadable expression on his face. Already haunted by the faces of those he could not protect, the last thing he needs or wants is to be haunted by visions of these women ... of Furiosa ...

As he walks back to the Rig, the Dag falls in to step beside him. "It's too late you know," she tells him wisely.

His response to her comment is a questioning grunt. "You already care. Her face will haunt you forever - we all will..."

He's not sure if it's an observation or a curse …

****


End file.
